Playthings Of Fate
by Nysrina
Summary: (CU/AR) Why is it that Inuyasha can still smell Kagome's scent, when she is no longer there? Warning: Character deaths.
1. Maiden, Maiden, Tell Me True

**Disclaimer:** I own only the Water God's Child, the priest of the lonely shrine in the mountains and his assistant mikos.

**Author's (rather long) note:** CU/AR. This begins in the manga universe, with a passing reference to Inuyasha Movie 3 and Movie 4, before ending up in the present time. There will be no attempt to explain how Sesshoumaru and Kagome got and ended up together because that's been done before by many a fine fan fiction authors (that's just a convoluted way of saying "I is lazy"). There are quite a few character deaths in this narrative, next to no happily-ever-after and a twist of lime, just for flavour. Kagome is about 16 years old at the start of this fic, but please bear in mind the setting and context. Any and all inaccuracies pertaining to rites and rituals mentioned in this piece of fiction are the direct result for my lack of research and knowledge.

This baby was drafted out in mid-February 2010 and completed somewhere in March the same year. I think it's high time I shared it, nu? I vacillated so much between posting and not posting that it's hardly amusing.

* * *

**01: Maiden, Maiden, Tell Me True…**

More than a year had passed since the time portal closed. While Inuyasha went to the well every three days or so, just in case the portal had opened again, he sometimes wandered away, all over the lands. Today, he found himself leaping up the slopes on the foothills of a mountain, relishing the fresh air, the greenery and the general sense of peace, running hard and bounding over rocks, logs and streamlets until he scented something on the breeze, something that made his spine stiffen in shock. He could smell another hanyou, along with his half-brother and... a familiar smell – faint and somewhat static as it the scent had been frozen - but utterly unmistakable. The tempo of his heart increased with the onslaught of emotions; the presence of his half brother or the hanyou he could dismiss, but he could not ignore that last smell.

Turning his face to the direction of those scents, Inuyasha ran and ran until he stumbled upon a clearing. In that clearing stood a modest house. That too, he could ignore at any given day, if not for that fact that his nose led him there, where those three scents were the strongest. A female hanyou, older than he was by a few centuries, stood before the house, crouched defensively with an unsheathed blade in her hand. Eyeing him warily with enormous sloe eyes, she sniffed discreetly. Her elongated brown ears swivelled and twitched as she straightened slowly.

"Inuyasha-sama?" she asked tentatively.

"Who are you?" he demanded in return, his hand gripping the hilt of his sword.

"My name is Kanoko. I am the caretaker of this house."

"I smell Sesshoumaru. Is he here?" Inuyasha growled.

"Yes, of course, he is. This is, after all, _his_ home." She sheathed her short sword and bowed, gesturing politely for him to follow. They rounded the house and came to a veranda at the back, where Sesshoumaru was sitting, in perfect seiza posture, seemingly lost in contemplation as he stared at the vista before him. Kanoko bowed and left them. While Sesshoumaru looked outwardly calm and still, Inuyasha could smell the heavy pall of sadness and despair, two emotions he would never attribute to the daiyoukai. Heck, he doubted the bastard even had a heart beneath that armour. The tangible emotions coming from his half-brother made him uneasy. Inuyasha crossed his arms and glared at Sesshoumaru, who did not yet acknowledge his presence.

"Why is it," Inuyasha grounded out, "that I smell Kagome in this place, when she is _no longer__ here_?"

* * *

"This is a calendar. This is how we mark days in my time."

She showed him a piece of shiny white card, small enough to fit in her palm and explained to him the divisions of months, weeks and days, pointing to each one as she spoke. "Where I come from," she paused, a light blush blooming on her cheeks, "_this_ date coincides with our wedding day." The waves of pleasure and pride emanating from her scent almost made him smile.

She offered him the hard white card. He took it from her and studied the numbers on it, making special note of that significant date.

"And when were you born?"

She twisted her head to peruse the card he now held in his hands, one finger tapping on her chin.

"Ah, here it is. This date," her finger pointed out the date of her birth before moving to the four digits at the top the card. "Sixteen years prior to this year."


	2. What Can Grow Without The Dew?

**02: What Can Grow Without The Dew?**

A few weeks ago, Kanoko had gone to a lonely little shrine on the other side of the foothills talk to the priest about presiding over a wedding ceremony. Often bartering food with one another, the priest and Kanoko were well-acquainted.

"Oh, wedding eh? Yours, Kanoko-san?" the priest had asked the deer-hanyou teasingly. From the little talks they shared, the priest had learnt that Kanoko had been widowed for almost eighty years, having outlived her human husband.

"Don't be silly. It is my master's, so do be prepared," Kanoko had retorted, handing him a small bag of coins and a straw filled basket holding fine porcelain cups. "This is to pay for whatever you need. My master would appreciate it if you would use these brand new cups for the ceremony, and sake too, of course." She gestured to the cask of sake that sat next to her. Kanoko had toted the cask as if it weighed nothing more than an empty basket, brushing away the priest's proffered assistance.

The priest was waiting at the steps of his little shrine, beneath the weathered and unpainted torii, when they arrived. His eyes widened when Sesshoumaru glided out of the sky with Jaken, followed by Ah-Un bearing Rin, Kanoko and Kagome. Flanking the priest were two equally goggle-eyed, gape-mouthed miko. The priest did not seem to be very old, possibly not even forty years of age, but in these times that meant one's life was already more than half-way done. To Kagome, his eyes were so very old and so very merry.

The priest and the two miko bowed formally as they welcomed the wedding party, eyes bright with excitement and wonder, especially at the sight of Ah-Un and Sesshoumaru.

"Welcome, youkai-sama, ojou-san," the priest said with a genuinely delighted smile. "It is an unparalleled honour and privilege." His eyes shifted to placid Ah-Un. "A two-headed tenbaryu! As beautiful as it is rare!"

It was an enormous relief for Kagome that his attitude towards these creatures of legend and magic was hardly one of bigoted superstition. She smiled brilliantly at him, her hand tightening just a little more around Sesshoumaru's fingers.

Returning her gaze, the priest cast her a questioning look.

"Ojou-san… you are a miko, am I correct?" he began carefully, his surprise and curiosity plain. "Your powers are..." he gestured expressively, momentarily lost for words, "...almost infinite."

"I am a miko, yes," Kagome murmured, her buoyant delight evaporating somewhat. She edged closer to Sesshoumaru, who tensed visibly.

"Ah, I live in interesting times," the priest laughed gently, nodding. "Perhaps, there is hope for _real_ peace between the spiritfolk and man after all. But let us proceed now. This way, please…"

_Spring_, came a thought in her head as she tottered on her geta, one hand clutching the padded hem of the gorgeous uchikake against her thick obi, _is indeed a beautiful time to be married._

The priest ushered them into the shrine without further ado.

* * *

Sesshoumaru said nothing, but simply opened the hands that laid on his lap. Inuyasha's gaze dropped to the glossy lock of black hair cradled in the strong, pale palms. The sinuous little bundle was bound by a strip of red silk. Tense silence settled over the two, as Inuyasha waited impatiently for an explanation.

"I cut it from her sakkou," Sesshoumaru stated softly, eyes still on the distant horizon.

Inuyasha started, choking on the implications of the statement, searching Sesshoumaru's profile wildly for clarification.

_"What?"_ Inuyasha asked stupidly at last, unable to wrap his mind around the insinuation. His erratically roving sight caught a glimpse of the room through the partially open shoji behind his half-brother. There, he spied the irrefutable evidence of the impossible - hanging proudly on a kimono stand was a bridal uchikake. Unlike the preferred shade of vibrant vermillion, this one was deep shade of blood red, with elegant patterns embroidered in white, silver and gold on its sleeves and battened hem, the only bold colour in the otherwise sparse room.

"When did you..?" Inuyasha stuttered. _"When?"_ _How the _hell_ did they manage this?_

"Does it matter now?" Sesshoumaru replied, finally turning to look at Inuyasha. And Inuyasha stumbled back a step, shocked at what he saw on his half-brother's face. The topaz eyes were edged with red - weary, lightless and dull - and beneath them were dark shadows. Sesshoumaru looked as if he had been hollowed out from within, a husk without spirit. "As you said before, she is not here anymore."

* * *

**Note: **To the best of my limited knowledge, the sakkou hairstyle didn't come into being until the 18th century. I had to imply the act of cutting the tail of the topknot in the marriage rituals, because a plausible explanation for Inuyasha scenting Kagome is needed. Hehe… And yes, I'm fully aware that the implied details of Kagome's wedding regalia are those of a modern day kimono.


	3. What Can Burn For Years And Years?

**03: What Can Burn For Years and Years?**

She could not help blushing, pressed up against him like this, as they flew home. On the way to be wedded, Kagome had been nervous. Now, she was downright jittery.

The wedding rituals had an air of solemn elegance which quelled her nerves momentarily. The little shrine was unpretentious and subdued and she liked the rustic simplicity very much. In lieu of her absent family, Kagome had placed a framed photograph of them next to her on the tatami floor. With nine sips of rice wine between them, an offering of sakaki sprigs to the Kami and a final litany of blessings and well-wishes from the smiling priest, their forbidden love was sanctified by marriage.

She was blushing _now_ for Sesshoumaru had gazed at her with tender passion and kissed her forehead gently beneath the weather-worn torii, just before they took to the skies. Oh, they had stolen kisses and caresses before, but he had never, not even once, pushed her into giving more of herself.

_This_, was different. This was a prelude to something beyond her ken.

When they arrived at the house, Kanoko hurriedly laid out a little feast for the newly-weds, packed lacquered boxes with food and ushered Rin, Jaken and Ah-Un down a path leading to her own house further down the slope.

The daiyoukai and the miko were left alone.

* * *

Pieces clicked in Inuyasha's head; now it made _some_ sense, those times Sesshoumaru had stood between death and Kagome. Despite the sense of betrayal and disappointment, he marvelled at how well these two kept their little secret. It puzzled him that he could not summon enough righteous anger to strike Sesshoumaru on the spot. But he felt quite indignant where Kagome was concerned in this whole arrangement.

"You fool!" Inuyasha snarled. "In this time, she may be a woman ready for marriage, but back in her world, she is just out of childhood! You would have her face dishonour and prejudice in her time, all by herself?"

Heated irritation flashed in Sesshoumaru's eyes.

"Do not presume that we would be so careless in such matters, hanyou," was the quiet, forceful reply. "She will not be alone. Kagome had conveyed my intentions to her lady mother. Her mother gave me her consent and her blessings." The cold, imperious words should have stung but Inuyasha felt a moment of relief; this was the Sesshoumaru he was familiar with, not the soulless automaton of five minutes ago. Inuyasha leaned forward, his voice low with anxiety and urgency when he next spoke.

"But Sesshoumaru, there are practically no youkai in her time. We have encountered a few restless souls and disembodied spirits, yes, but nothing else. I certainly did not sense _you_ there."

Sesshoumaru turned Inuyasha's words in his mind. The hanyou was hurt, naturally, but he was also...worried. By all appearances, his presence wasn't felt in Kagome's time. That could mean so many things, including that he may not survive the centuries but he would be damned if he ever let that happen.

"I will live to see her again," was all he said.

"Then what would you do in the meantime?" Inuyasha asked brusquely, masking his concern with affected derision. "Rule your lands alone and heirless?"

His question was met with silence as Sesshoumaru dipped his eyes to the lock of hair he cradled tenderly in his hands. One finger caressed the strands gently, lovingly. Inuyasha could not help the images that rose unbidden in his mind's eyes: his half-brother, gently caressing the butterscotch skin of Kagome's face with those deadly clawed hands. He shook his head violently, ears flattening on his head. Nothing had clued him to the fact that his half-sibling and the girl he held dear were youkai and wife. He suspected now that the reasons for Sesshoumaru's appearances at the village were two-fold: one, to check on his little Rin, and two, to check if _his_ Kagome had managed to return. And the thing that struck him most when he recalled the few times he saw Sesshoumaru at the village was that there was never any indication how much the daiyoukai was _suffering _under the burden of this secret.

Here, in this secluded sanctuary, Sesshoumaru dropped his mask and wore his heart, bleeding, on his royal sleeve.


	4. What Can Cry But Shed No Tears?

**04: What Can Cry But Shed No Tears?**

She was surrounded by incarnations of white - moonlight, silver and ivory. Underneath her was the deep pile of fur which Sesshoumaru customarily wore with his signature kimono. The voluminous pelt cradled her in its luxuriant softness. Over her arched Sesshoumaru, his skin gleaming like polished argentum, reflecting the muted ambient light filtering through the paper screens. And all around her was his waterfall of long, long hair, swaying and shimmering with his every move like a curtain of moonlight. Kagome marveled at how gentle and patient he was with her.

He braced himself on his single arm and kissed her softly. It would tickle and discomfit Kagome to know that Sesshoumaru was ardently wishing he had two arms to hold her, hence two hands to touch her. If Kagome were to summarized her first carnal experience, she would say it felt like drowning in white, like being consumed, from inside out, by white. Their voices never rose higher than a moan or a gasp. He wasn't a vocal creature and neither was she, despite her tendency to raise her voice should anything annoy her. And there was certainly nothing at all in this moment to raise her ire.

Sesshoumaru held her close as she dozed off afterwards. When she had fallen into deeper sleep, he rose and made other preparations.

Shortly before sunset, Kagome woke to Sesshoumaru's gentle nudging. She allowed him to help her into a yukata and followed him out of the room, through the verandah, to the front of the house. All vestiges of sleep fell away as she spied the ofuro full of warm water. Kagome pressed a hand to her heart, touched by the gesture. _Sesshoumaru, a lord, lowering himself to see to my comfort. He did this for _me_..._

She threw her arms around him, murmuring a soft litany of gratitude.

On his part, Sesshoumaru was luxuriating in the feel of her weight leaning against him. Eyes on the early-rising stars, fingers in her hair and every lungful he breathed in full of her scent, he found himself content at the moment.

* * *

Inuyasha wondered how much it must have cost Sesshoumaru to step back and let Kagome and himself work out their roles in the quest.

"You left her with me most of the time," Inuyasha whispered, "when she is yours to protect, when you could have done a lot more for her." _Did you trust me that much?_

"It was necessary," Sesshoumaru replied evenly. "Think, Inuyasha... if it was made known that the Lady of the Western Lands is a human, what do you think will happen? You, of all people, should know."

Inuyasha knew, of course, from first hand experience. His lady mother was treated with contempt, killed in the birthing room by her own kind before his late sire revived her with Tenseiga. His own life had never, ever been easy... If it was made known that the Lord of the Western Lands wedded a human, that human was as good as dead.

"But you should also know," came the youkai lord's voice again, "that I was never too far away all those times she was with you…"

Sesshoumaru had held a dream in tender embraces, touched it, tasted it and had drowned himself in its scents. He had tied himself to that dream by rituals performed before the Kami; Kagome's absence went beyond the physical. Sesshoumaru paid enormously to uphold this charade, all for a handful of stolen moments, all to protect _her._

Inuyasha could understand what Sesshoumaru was feeling; he, too, had known loss when Kikyou died in his arms for the final time. The difference was his loss had been mitigated by the supportive presence of his friends, of Kagome, but Sesshoumaru bore his pain alone.

Fifteen months of separation had worn Sesshoumaru down.

_What, then,_ Inuyasha mused mirthlessly, _would five centuries of solitude_ do _to the bastard?_


	5. Silly Lad, The Answer True

**05: Foolish Lad, The Answer True…**

Beyond the shoji, the world was stirring. It was not dawn yet but the birds were already trilling their morning songs as nocturnal creatures loped and fluttered back to their dens, burrows and caves. In the hazy world between slumber and consciousness, she could faintly hear Kanoko pottering about in the kitchen. Squirming closer to her primary source of warmth, Kagome floated bonelessly in that pleasant realm as Sesshoumaru's arm tightened around her. In an hour or so, she would wake, bathe, dress and eat a light meal with him before bidding him farewell, but now, now she would spend it this way - feeling peaceful, rested and... safe. Here, in this room, in this little house on the upper foothills of the mountain, nothing, it seems, could touch them. The quest, the danger, the whole world was kept at bay, outside the boundary of his barrier and she savoured the feeling, wrapped it tightly around her tired body and luxuriated in it. Never mind if these moments were stolen; the fact made them all the more precious. She would take what she could get, and give as good as she got, for as long as she can.

The tranquil moments flowed by, measured by their breaths and heartbeats. All too soon, Sesshoumaru pulled away gently and nudged her temple with his nose.

"Time to wake up," he said softly, regret apparent in his inflection. Kagome groaned peevishly in half-hearted protest, stretching the stiffness out of her limbs languidly.

At length, they rose and each donned a yukata. Kagome picked up a small basket filled with her soaps and washcloth, and draped towels over her arms. Before she stepped out of the room, Sesshoumaru placed a small blanket over her shoulders to ward off the near-dawn chill; autumn had settled over the lands. In silence, they followed a path further up the slopes to the hot springs, each clasping the other's hand loosely.

They washed quickly outside the springs from a bucket of water he had drawn. In the summer, they could linger outside the springs, taking a few extra minutes to wash each other, but in autumn, the chilly air raised a million bumps over Kagome's skin; she couldn't get into the pool fast enough, much to Sesshoumaru's amusement. Come winter, they would have to utilize the ofuro, and he would have to draw the water and stoke the fire like a servant. But for _her_ sake, and for the fact that the times they spent here together were so few and far between, he didn't mind.

But when winter came, he spent it alone at that little house; she was gone, snatched away by fickle Time, beyond his reach then.

* * *

Inuyasha could square with the idea that he would never see Kagome again; it was a possibility he had prepared himself for. Even if she did manage to come back through the well anytime soon, he'd have to relinquish her to Sesshoumaru, and then they would _both _have to worry about her life. Painful as it was, her absence would serve to safeguard her. At length Inuyasha heaved a sigh and uncrossed his arms.

"When you see her again, tell her I said hello. And you be sure to take good care of her. Her heart is big enough to forgive everyone in the world, but she is only human."

The hanyou spun on the ball of his foot and strode away, leaving Sesshoumaru to his thoughts. As he passed Kanoko, who was mending a torn kimono on the front verandah of the house, Inuyasha paused and asked quietly, "When did he marry her?"

Kanoko put down her mending and thought for a second.

"The end of spring during the year Naraku was vanquished."

Inuyasha shook his head. At most, Sesshoumaru and Kagome had only been wedded for six months before Time tore them apart and even so, not all of those months were spent together. In fact, Kagome had spent most of that time with him. Inside, Inuyasha felt a sour pity uncurl grudgingly for his half-brother.

_Idiot,_ the hanyou thought vehemently. _He is a daiyoukai. He'll live long enough to see her again in the future. Why couldn't he wait until then? _

Almost immediately at the heels of those thoughts came the realization that their forbidden love was found in desperate times. Sesshoumaru was all too aware of Kagome's mortality and frailty, despite the awesome spiritual power she wielded; she could die anytime, by anyone's hand, by _accident_ even. Sesshoumaru had simply reacted to circumstances, selfishly it may seem, but with a heart loyal and undivided nonetheless.


	6. A Stone Can Grow Without The Dew

**Author's (cheeky) note**: "Unchained Melody", anyone?

* * *

**06: A Stone Can Grow Without The Dew**

Over two years came and went since the well spat her out into her time and sucked Inuyasha back to the past. Kagome thought she would die when the well stopped functioning. She lived those early days with hope, missing her friends from the past, missing Sesshoumaru terribly, straining to listen for his knock on the door and for his presence to bring light into her life once again. He never promised that he would find her but she knew he would, if he could. His failure to materialise could mean so many things: he may have forgotten her or chosen the dishonourable path by forsaking her or he did not survive the centuries...

When hope mutated into despair, when doubts crowded her thoughts, her family rallied around her. Mama, Souta and Grandfather held her up and helped her move on with their unconditional love and support. With words and gestures of encouragement, they propelled her forward.

"Cherish the good memories, Kagome-chan," her mother whispered as Kagome cried into her pillow. "If he had died loving you until the end, he would want you to get up, fight and live, not fade away like this."

So with a handful of memories to sustain her, Kagome forged on ahead. She pegged away frantically in the remaining time she had before the entrance exams to senior high; she did well enough in the end. She still hoped, but she tempered her hopes with acceptance. She still despaired, but her despair diminished with the distractions provided by daily life. She will never know for sure what had happened to Sesshoumaru, if no one from the past survived to find her and tell her…

She made it through senior high school, with rather impressive grades for most of her subjects for her finals, as her result slip showed today. She had gone through a stack of brochures and prospectus and applied for admission into the colleges of her choice; her future looked promising. With a heart feeling lighter than it had in months, Kagome chattered and laughed with her friends as they headed towards the school gates, planning a weekend of shopping, movies and lunches.

The moment they stepped beyond the campus gates, she felt an overwhelming surge of youki pulsing all around her. Snapping to attention, Kagome's steps halted completely as her eyes fell on a tall man with pale hair, cut stylishly short, leaning against a shiny black car parked at the roadside several metres ahead; he was staring hard at her. Under her disbelieving scrutiny, the man slowly pushed himself off the vehicle and took a step forward. Kagome's hands flew to her mouth. The hope that she had carefully tucked away burst free and soared with helium lightness in her chest. Eyes locked on hers, the man opened his arms. Kagome ran, dropping her bag somewhere along the way, and launched herself into that well-missed embrace, revelling in the fact that he now had two arms to hold her. They never did have the chance to be together after the battle with Magatsuhi; things were moving much too fast then and it was just too risky to show that they were more than tenuous allies in the battle within the body of Naraku.

"Sesshoumaru," she whispered as her arms tightened around his neck. Sesshoumaru's lips parted in a silent cry of pained joy as he caught her, lifting her off her feet, clutching her tightly against his chest. For a long, long time the clung onto each other, unmindful of the curious and mildly scandalized stares of her schoolmates. There will be rumours, there will be speculation, but she could not bring herself to care. Not today, not ever. She pulled her head back to study his face. Oh Kami above... he looked older and his eyes reflected every day of those lonely centuries. She cupped his cheeks in her small, soft hands and asked him one question that had haunted her.

"Where have you been?"

* * *

And so the Lord of the West ruled his domain, like his forefathers did before him. He tolerated his allies, brooked no dissention and showed no mercy to his enemies. His court had expected him to take a wife soon after Naraku was destroyed. When it was apparent that he was not interested in any of the eligible females, the kingdom speculated and rumours took root. His visits to the human village did not go unnoticed and soon whispers of the Lord's interest in a human - a peasant girl - was rife. When human delegations came to the Lord to ask for the girl's hand and the Lord turned them all away, the rumours become worse. The Lord paid the rumours no mind.

When the Lord came to visit his ward one day, he found the former youkai slayer waiting for his audience. Sango suggested that it would be wise for Rin to learn the arts of self-defence and offered to teach the growing girl herself. The Lord acquiesced and, much to the former taijiya's delight and surprise, offered a proposal of his own.

Eventually, when she was old enough, Rin was married to Kohaku and the rumours dissipated like incense smoke in the breeze.

Now the court began to worry, for prior to this, the Lord had always acted like a normal, healthy male; he took his pleasure at will, once he was old enough. Although he gave as good as he got, all his encounters were perfunctory and impersonal. None of the females lingered afterwards and he cared for none of them. Yet, after he has defeated his foe and came into his own power, the Lord retreated into himself and lived like a hermit, shunning the pleasures of female company altogether.

_Something,_ the court whispered amongst themselves, _has happened to our Lord. Could he be ill?_ Jaken, the Lord's faithful servant, was abnormally close-mouthed when pestered with insinuating questions…

Before Rin, Sesshoumaru had never held another creature in affection, never felt fear and sadness on the account of another.

Before Kagome, Sesshoumaru had never given his heart away.


	7. Love Can Burn For Years And Years

**07: Love Can Burn For Years and Years**

Someone cleared their throat just then and Kagome twisted her head, sliding down and out of Sesshoumaru's arms to face her curious friends.

"I take it," said Ayumi speculatively, "that _he_ is the reason why you didn't date these last couple of years?"

Kagome grinned sheepishly as Eri handed the satchel she had dropped in her run.

"And we take it that lunch, movie and shopping is _not_ going to happen this weekend?" Eri asked cheekily.

"Uh, sorry, ladies," Kagome stuttered. "He... uh... just came back after a long time and... and I wasn't aware…"

Yuka held up a hand, smiling. "We understand, Kagome-chan. You seem to have a lot of catching up to do. We'll see you around. Come on, ladies! Who's up for crepes? I heard the new guy at the corner crepe stand is cute!" And with a chorus of chatter, the three girls moved off as a body, waving farewells with fluttering fingers.

"Well," Kagome said, blinking owlishly up at Sesshoumaru's placid face. "It's high time you met Mama, isn't it?"

If Kagome wasn't looking up at him with ardent adoration, she would have missed the tiny grimace that appeared fleetingly on his face, even as he nodded his agreement slowly.

* * *

He found them in a field near the edge of the village, an hour or so before sunset. The lurid afternoon light coloured their figures in warm orange and copper and the soft breeze carried their bright, cheerful voices clearly. The human children - progeny of the former youkai slayer and the priest - and the group of young hanyou rescued from Houraijima, visiting their rescuers, were playing rambunctiously in the grass with Inuyasha, who endured their antics with gruff good nature, while the other human adults bantered amongst themselves.

There she was, in the protective shadow of her husband. No longer was she the barefoot, chattering sprite that followed in his footsteps, but a woman, a wife and a respected healer in training. Oh, he knew she still adored him, worshipped him like a soldier did his general, like a daughter did her father. She had grown up tall, comely and healthy – her human family had cared for her well - and now carried new life in the cradle of her hips; her thickening waist testified as much.

"Sesshoumaru-sama!" her voice rang high and bright, a grin splitting her sun-kissed cheeks.

The rest of the adult humans straightened and inclined their heads respectfully, mumuring greetings. Kohaku relinquished his wife's company to the Lord, letting Rin fill her surrogate parent's ears with news. She talked animatedly as they took a stroll, describing to Sesshoumaru how she felt when her baby kicked her for the first time. But once they were out of earshot of the humans, like always, she dropped her voice and asked him cautiously, "Are you all right, Sesshoumaru-sama?"

_No, he was not all right. But the world must not see that._

His silence, compounded with eyes slanted to rake over the distant mountains, was her answer. Rin held her tongue, knowing that Sesshoumaru would accept no platitudes nor wanted any form of comfort, until insistent movement in her belly caused her to gasp. Her hand shot out to grasp Sesshoumaru's wrist, pulling his hand forward to press against the side of her stomach. Startled, the daiyoukai met his ward's merry eyes as, beneath his palm, foetal feet drummed a weak staccato beat against its mother's womb. He pulled back his hand gently, awestruck.

When the pair walked back to the others, Sesshoumaru was well aware that Inuyasha was pinning him with gimlet eyes. Sesshoumaru could ignore his half-brother, but he could not ignore the wave of concern, edged with sadness and fear, that was coming from him.

He walked Rin over to her other family, nodded his farewell to the party and left them without a word.

Rin lived long, and died surrounded by loving kin and loyal friends; among those present at her wake were some who were not entirely human – a motley collection of hanyou, including Inuyasha, and a young kitsune stood together, radiating grief. Everyone gave the youkai lord ample room to bid her his farewell. Part of Sesshoumaru died when he looked upon the peaceful, waxy face of his dear little girl. And then he did what he never did to Rin when she was alive – after he had offered incense, in front of everyone present, Sesshoumaru bent and kissed the aged forehead for the first and last time.

Even as part of him waited to live again far in the future, Sesshoumaru was already mourning. Someday, he would have to do this again; someday, he would have to kiss another human woman goodbye for the final time.

The centuries ahead seemed darker than ever.

Still he ruled, until a time came when youkai in general – ogres, imps, animal spirits and everything else in between – seemed to dwindle and virtually disappear, found only in the remotest places or places where much of the older ways still held sway. The more intelligent, powerful ones, especially the kitsune-folk, had craftily assimilated themselves into human society and gained economic foothold among them. Inuyasha had been wrong then; youkai did survive the centuries. Those few that remained had learnt the value of disguise.

Sesshoumaru then dismissed his servants, broke up what was left of his army and sealed his ancestral dens, hiding them from human eyes within seven powerful barriers. Never again would he set foot in them. He summoned Shippou, who had been Rin's loyal friend until the end, to care for the little house in the mountains; he could not care less if humans overran his lands. But _that_ little house was sacred ground.

When he took charge of that house, Shippou discovered what Inuyasha had discovered long ago: the real reason behind the Lord's reclusive demeanour…

Then Sesshoumaru left Japan, and travelled the world, absorbing the changes and learning about the ways human, how they lived, ruled and changed the world, killing time while he waited with infinite patience for the future to bring him to Kagome again. Bearing Inuyasha's words in mind, he stayed away until present society deemed her an adult, lest his longing become too much.

It was a good thing that he kept the durable plastic calendar she gave him; it was his beacon and reference in this lonely navigation through Time's flow.


	8. A Heart Can Cry But Shed No Tears

**Author's note: **The final chapter. Are you ready? I'm not.

* * *

**08: A Heart Can Cry But Shed No Tears**.

Mrs. Higurashi received her son-in-law with delight and warmth, not even batting an eyelid at the sight of his pointed ears and bold markings; Kagome had requested that he dropped his concealing illusion in her mother's presence. While Kagome changed out of her uniform, she laid out tea and sweetmeats, engaging him in polite conversation.

When Sesshoumaru was ready to leave, she excused herself and took Kagome with her upstairs. In the relative privacy of the hallway between the bedrooms, she looked Kagome straight in the eyes and suggested sweetly that she pack a bag and spend the weekend with Sesshoumaru.

"But… but, Mama…" Kagome protested feebly, despite the fact the she so badly wanted to.

"He's waited long enough, Kagome-chan," her mother smiled teasingly, reaching out to tuck a lock of hair behind her daughter's ear. "And I'm sure _you've_ waited long enough too…"

Kagome had never packed with such alacrity before.

Sesshoumaru arched a questioning eyebrow when mother and daughter descended the stairs, noting with some curiosity the overnight bag Kagome was clutching. Mrs. Higurashi ushered them to the door with a pleasant smile, kissed Kagome on the cheeks and wished them a good weekend.

Outside, on the porch, the former miko and daiyoukai exchanged a long look with one another.

"Mama suggested that I spend the weekend with you," Kagome said at last, her voice soft and her cheeks pink. Sesshoumaru said nothing in reply. He took the bag from her hands and draped an arm around her shoulder, guiding her off the porch, feeling thoroughly appreciative of Mrs. Higurashi's astute nature.

* * *

"Sesshoumaru-sama," the titian-haired kitsune cried in horror. "You _cannot_ ask me to do that!"

"I am not asking. I am commanding you." Sesshoumaru's eyes first lingered on a framed photograph of a smiling Kagome that sat on a table, then his gaze moved to caress the tablet with her posthumous name that stood on the altar. "I have lived long enough." _I am weary._

For appearance's sake, Kagome and Sesshoumaru waited a year after her admission into university before going through the wedding rites again for the benefit of her friends and family. It was a small, intimate affair and he was glad for that. She wanted no fancy honeymoon destination, and so during term break, he took her to the quiet house – _their first home_ - in the mountains, five hundred years older and still standing, with discreetly added human comforts. Thereafter, they would spend most of her holidays there.

They were as contented and as happy as they could be together. The only darkness in their lives were the fact that there could not be any children, as they found out the hard way. At the end of the first trimester of her first and last pregnancy, as her the strength of her baby's youki grew, Kagome's body reacted to its presence as it would to a malevolent entity; her powers flared out of control and purified the youki of the child. The baby did not survive. If Sesshoumaru was disappointed and saddened, he did not mention it, but deep in his mind, he held a wistful memory – of Rin's baby kicking against his hand – and he had _wanted _so badly to experience that for himself with Kagome…

They had but a little over fifteen years together, until human folly took her life away. She had just hung up after talking to Sesshoumaru who was away abroad. She was on the way home from grocery shopping when he called. But she never made it back. An irresponsible reveller who had too much to drink too early in the winter evening and no sense to call a taxi had ploughed with considerable speed onto the pavement, injuring a few pedestrians and killing two – Kagome, and the domestic help she took with her for company.

Within the hour after he had bid his wife goodbye, Sesshoumaru's phone rang again. This time, it was a weeping Souta, disclosing the awful news to a disbelieving daiyoukai. Sesshoumaru was a few thousand kilometres and several time-zones too far to be of any help, and laws that governed travel had kept him from transforming and flying home in the biting wind that assailed countries above certain latitudes at that time of the year. Even if he could pull off such a feat, it would take him more than a day to arrive; Tenseiga would be useless then.

Impotent, he roared his rage and grief in the lonely hotel suite.

During Obon, a year after Kagome's passing, when the last obligatory rites have been completed, Shippou found himself standing behind the kneeling youkai lord in the main room of the mountainside house. Wielding a wickedly sharp katana, the kitsune stared down at the silver head, swallowing convulsively and intensely hating what he was commanded to do.

Sesshoumaru gathered his now long hair in one hand and sliced it short with his claws. He let the silky tresses fall haphazardly about him. With ritualistic slowness, he slid the layers of the white kimono off his right shoulder and pulled his arm free, baring the right side of his body before pushing the left lapel aside to expose his chest.

_He dressed himself like he would a corpse_, thought Shippou with morbid despair.

Picking up the short sword, Sesshoumaru positioned it over his heart and, without flinching, _pushed_ the blade into his chest. Shippou felt his skin crawl at the sight of the blade bursting through Sesshoumaru's back, but he lifted his katana in readiness all the same, jaws clenched against the hot tears burning painfully in his throat. Twelve inches of gleaming steel protruding from the pale flesh looked so wrong, wrong,_ wrong_… yet he was compelled to honour Sesshoumaru's devotion to Kagome. He would dignify the youkai lord's act with his own obedience, no matter how reluctant.

"Now." _I'll see you soon, Kagome._

Spine straight and chin held high, the youkai lord gave his final command softly and calmly, even as his blood flowed, even as his torn heart and flesh sought to repair themselves. Sesshoumaru quelled his energy, stopping the regeneration of his body. But to Shippou, the determined and unwavering tone resonated like a desperate scream.

Shippou swung the katana down hard and closed his eyes at the sickening thud he heard. Sesshoumaru's body remained upright for a second before pitching sideways slowly, his dead hand still clutching the hilt of the wakizashi buried in his heart. Shippou dropped the sword with a clatter and caught the falling corpse, gently depositing it onto the floor. The kitsune was weeping openly now.

Moments passed before he could bring himself to pick up the head to lay it close to the body. When he did, he saw that Sesshoumaru's eyes were half-mast and the tiniest smile curved his lips, as if he was seeing something that pleased him. Then with a heart both heavy and light, Shippou exited the house. He stood in the garden and summoned his foxfire, turning the house into Sesshoumaru's funeral pyre, one that burned with eerie blue flames, one that burned with artic chill instead of searing heat. For an hour the fire raged without smoke as Shippou watched. When it died down, nothing was left but mounds of ashes, to be scattered by the cool night wind.

A year later, developers bought the land and built a boutique hotel, incorporating the existence of the nearby natural hot springs into its attractions. It became a rather popular vacation destination due to the nature of its tranquil surroundings.

And because it was rumoured to be haunted by a pair of supposed suicide lovers from centuries ago.

Some guests told stories of ghostly sightings, of a petite dark-haired woman and a tall ethereal man - if it could be called a man – with long, white hair, looking as if he had stepped out of a kabuki play. The unusual otherwordly twosome always appeared together, dressed in traditional attire, as wraiths were wont to do. The guests who had caught the privileged glimpse of the duo often remarked on the unusual red hue of the phantom bride's uchikake, and how strikingly beautiful they looked together.

* * *

_Maiden, maiden tell me true,_  
_What can grow without the dew?_  
_What can burn for years and years?_  
_What can cry, but shed no tears?_

_Foolish lad, the answer true,_  
_A stone can grow without the dew._  
_Love can burn for years and years._  
_A heart can cry, but shed no tears._

_- **Tumbalalaika**, translated_

* * *

**Last words**: What Sesshoumaru did to terminate himself may seem like seppuku/harkiri, but this is not it. In ritual suicide to avoid dishonour, a samurai would cut his stomach – a fatal and painful wound – and a chosen second would cut through the neck, leaving a little skin behind so that the head would not fly off. Total decapitation would imply that the second is an unskilled swordsman. In no way am I belittling the ritualistic act that is the key to the way of the samurai by having Sesshoumaru emulate it closely because he can't go on alone. It's just that Sesshoumaru is a daiyoukai, and one has to go all out to kill a creature with regenerative abilities, no? So instead of a dagger to slice open the stomach, I gave him a short sword to pierce his heart. I don't think a tanto would do much to him. And I'm truly sorry that his head had to be totally removed from his body. Not pretty at all.

If you have been following this fic since the first chapter was posted, I recommend you read it the second time. The story flows better now that all the chapters are up. Thank you for your time and support.


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